Miss Violet Stewart walked down the path towards 'the Farringham School for Boys' with a young man who carried her luggage. She had been sent for by the headmaster to help out the staff with classes since she was a woman of learning, though she didn't quite understand where she had the exceptional knowledge from- she knew she had studied with her father's money at a very prestigious school, but she only had rough memories of her time there.

Nevertheless, she greeted the headmaster, who promptly ordered the man to bring her bags to her room and escorted her to the first class she would be helping in.

"Ah, Mr John Smith. You might be exactly what he needs, Miss Stewart. That man- perfect knowledge, likely the best I've ever seen in my time- but he's got his head in the clouds. Might need a bit of female company to keep him on task." The headmaster said as they came to a stop outside of Mr Smith's history class.

"I'll try my best, sir." Violet smiled, opening the door to the classroom. She stepped inside, seeing that the boy's eyes were all trained on her as they sat at their single desks with books in front of them.

John, who stood with a book in his hand and a mortat board on his head, hadn't noticed her entry and continued to read out loud.

"...troops had forced them to retreat." He came to a stop as he picked up on the averted attention of his students and looked over at the door.

The young woman stood there, with rather unruly curls but in a neat, white dress. She looked amused as her gaze caught John's.

"Hello, Mr Smith." She greeted him politely. "I'm sure the headmaster alerted you to my presence in your classes. I'm Violet Stewart." She explained.

He looked at her dazedly before quickly regaining his composure. "Ah, yes, of course. Do you have any knowledge of the Battle of Waterloo?" He asked.

"Ah, Napoleon. Europe unites to go against him. We won, which I don't think had something to do with the fact that the Duke of Wellington kept insulting his troops. Rather rude, really." She paused suddenly, realising that words had flown out of her mouth before she had the chance to process them. "Oh, I'm terrible sorry. I just can't stop talking sometimes." She apologised with a small smile on her lips.

"It's quite alright, Miss Stewart." John said with a smile of his own before he turned back to his class. "You're dismissed for today. Off you go!" He shooed them out of the class before asking Violet to walk with him to his study, which she did gladly.

"You look rather familiar to me, Miss Stewart. Have we met before?" John stated curiously.

She shook her head. "I don't think we have, no, but I seem very familiar with me, too. I'd much rather you called me Violet, by the way. I never took a liking to my surname."

They passed into the hallway, where two maids were scrubbing the floor on their hands and knees. One of them was black, and she smiled at John.

"Morning, Sir." She said cheerily before she saw Violet. "Oh, Viol- Miss Stewart."

"Yes, that would be me, hello." She said before joining John again. They went upstairs when Violet heard sudenly ceased laughing, so she excused herself from him to check it out.

"You're not paid to have fun, are you. Put a little backbone into it." She heard Baines, who she had heard about from the headmaster, say.

"Yes Sir, sorry, Sir." The maids nodded.

The boy next to Baines pointed at the maid that had greeted John. "You there, what's your name again?"

"Martha, Sir. Martha Jones." She told him.

"Tell me then, Jones. With hands like those, how can you tell when something's clean?" He sneered, and the boys laughed, walking off.

Violet stepped into view and called them out. "Excuse me, boys."

They turned to look at her. "Yes?"

"I'm sure you've learnt about the American Civil War, haven't you?" She started, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, we have." Baines said nonchalantly.

"Then I suggest you respect what people gave their lives and eventually won for, or I'll be having a word with your father, Baines." She glared.

"Why would my father ever take audience in front of a woman?" He said, smirking provocotively.

"I've been under the company of your father quite often, these past few months. There's been quite a few discussions on the best upbringing for unruly boys and I must say- I am rather persuasive." Violet smirked as well, pushing a loose curl out of her face. "And, of course, Misogynists might not be desirable husbands in the future."

Baines and the other boy looked at her in shock before turning away from her with out another word.

"I'm sorry, I wish boys knew how to behave these days. With all that could be, and they act like swine." Violet looked after the boys, sighing.

The white maid nodded. "Just think though. In a few years time boys like that will be running the country." She said.

"Nineteen thirteen. They might not." Martha said quietly, but Violet heard it and smiled sadly.

"I'm sorry, I should go and find my room." She walked off, but called, "Have a lovely day, ladies!"

After having found her room, which appeared to be next to John's, she freshened herself up and walked outside to see if she could find him, since she didn't know anyone else at the school.

She walked towards the stairs, but stopped to look at a notice board, where she saw an announcement for an annual dance.

"I wonder if I can dance." She mused quietly, just as a woman in a nurse's uniform appeared beside her along with John.

"Have you seen this, John? The annual dance at the village hall tomorrow. It's nothing formal, but rather fun by all accounts." The woman looked at him hopefully. "Do you think you'll go?"

He, however, was thrown off at the sight of Violet and found himself stammering. "I hadn't thought about it." He finally settled on, glancing at the young woman who watched them amusedly.

"It's been ages since I've been to a dance, only no one's asked me." The nurse laughed nervously.

"Well, I should imagine that you would be... um... I mean I never thought you'd be one for... I mean there's no reason why you shouldn't." He rambled nervously, inching backwards and towards the stairs. "If you do, you may not... I probably won't, but even if I did then I couldn't... um, I mean I wouldn't want to-"

"The stairs." The nurse pointed out, bemused- as was Violet.

"What about the stairs?" He looked at her confusedly.

Violet giggled slightly and pointed at them. "They're right behind you."

When John turned to look at them, he lost his balance and fell backwards, sending the books flying as he thumped down the stairs. The nurse looked at him in concern, but the woman next to her was focused on diminishing her laughter.

Joan, John and Violet were in John's study, the latter looking around the room curiously, picking up a few books here and there as Joan checked the teacher's head.

He winced, but his eyes were trained on Violet as she moved around the room with an air of elegance and an excited smile on her face.

"Stop it." Joan scolded him, trying to act as if she didn't see him staring. "I get boys causing less fuss than this."

"Because it hurts!" He exclaimed sulkily, making Violet turn around to shoot him a smile.

Just then, Martha burst into the room. "Is he alright?" She asked worriedly.

Joan looked at her disapprovingly. "Excuse me, Martha. It's hardly good form to enter a master's study without knocking."

"Sorry, right, yeah." She ran back to the open door and knocked on it before running back to them. "But is he alright? They said you fell down the stairs, Sir."

"No, it was just a tumble, that's all." John muttered, not pleased at the persistance of his staff.

"Have you checked for concussion?" She asked the nurse.

"I have, and I dare say I know a lot more about it than you." She answered condensendingly, and Martha found herself looking at Violet to help her out.

"Mr Smith is fine, Martha." She gave the girl a reassuring smile from where she stood at the bookshelves before turning to Joan. "And I do have to day, Matron- hostility isn't beautiful in any way, you should reconsider."

Martha gave her a grateful look before going about tidying the study.

"I was just telling Matron and Vio- Miss Stewart about my dreams. They are quite remarkable tales." John told them.

"I keep imagining that I'm someone else, and that I'm hiding-"

Joan interrupted him. "Hiding? In what way?"

He laughed nervously. "Well, almost every night- this is going to sound silly-"

"Tell me." Joan insisted.

"I dream, quite often, that I have two hearts." He said finally, and an image sprung in Violet's mind.

"Of course, that's why you looked so familiar!" She realised, and when he looked at her confusedly, she explained, "I have the same dreams and, well, you're in them."

He studied her for a second, his eyes lingering on her lips for a second longer than needed, before it dawned on him. "You're right- you're the other one with two hearts!"

Joan looked unhappy at the revelation and tried to pull the two out of their newly-created bubble. "Well then, I can be the judge of that." She said loudly, pulling a stethoscope out from her doctor's bag. She listened to John's chest and, after hearing only a single heartbeat, looked up with a faintly smug smile.

"I can confirm the diagnosis- just one heart, singular." She told him. "Would you like me to check you, too?" She asked Violet.

She waved the nurse off nonchalantly. "It's just a silly fantasy, that's all."

"I have written down some of these dreams in the form of fiction..." John interrupted anxiously. "Not that it would be of any interest..."

"I'd be very interested." Violet and Joan said simulataneously, making the former laugh.

"Go ahead." She motioned for the nurse to follow John, who had moved over to his desk.

He picked up a leather-bound journal and handed it to her carefully. "Well... I've never shown it to anyone before."

"'Journal of Impossible Things'." She read the hand-written title on the first page before going on to turn the pages, seeing all kinds of creatures. Violet recognised most of them from her dreams, but even the ones she didn't looked very familiar.

"Just look at these creatures!" Joan gasped, staring at an ink sketch of a metal creature.

Violet felt a tremble go up her spine. "That's a Dalek, isn't it?"

John nodded distantly. "Yes, they seem to be a reaccurance. My character seems to have a rather strong hate towards them."

"Such imagination. It's wonderful." Joan stated, amazed, and went on flipping pages. Countless monsters and descriptions graced the pages, and she eventually stopped on a portrait of a girl's face. "And quite an eye for the pretty girls."

"That's Rose." The young woman standing behind her stated, overcome with a sudden sadness. "I always seem to find myself guilty when I dream of her."

They went on, looking at the journal and discussing John and Violet's dreams, with Joan feeling a bit left out when the both of them disappeared into their own bubble, animatedly talking about adventures their imaginary characters had had.

Eventually, the three of them had to return to their duties, but not before John asked Violet to the pub after her last class. She agreed with a childish glee that he couldn't help but admire.

Violet's classes had been tiring, escpecially since she had to put a few misogynistic men in their place throughout the day. Still, she went back to her room and changed into a plain, long-sleeved, navy blue dress before running a hand through her uselessly messy curls and sighing.

"This'll just have to do." She said out loud, checking her reflection in a mirror once more before she met John outside of the school.

"Hello, Violet." He smiled, holding out his arm.

She took it, giving him a smile of her own. "How were your classes?" She asked as they started walking.

"Unspectacular- I suppose I can't have a beautiful woman bursting into my class all the time." He teased, making her blush. "What about yours? I do hope the boys weren't too harsh on you- most of them can't help it, they were taught by their fathers." He said, and Violet instantly recognised it was a serious topic for him.

"The boys were fine, mostly. It was the teachers really. I suppose I should watch what I say- I don't think it's wise for me to correct them if I want to stay here." She told John warily.

He sighed. "I'll apologise on their behalf, then."

"It's quite alright, I should be used to this by now." She smiled reassuringly.

They talked about various topics as they walked to the pub, never an awkward silence as they discussed unruly pupils and shared private wishes.

It was the same inside of the pub. After John had gotten himself and Violet something to drink- a pint for him and some water for her- they sat down at a table and started chatting away in their own bubble, blissfully ignorant to everything around them.

Finally, it got late and dark outside, so they decided to start heading back. Just outside of the inn, however, Martha, another maid and Joan were looking up at the sky, seeming bewildered.

John looked at them oddly. "Anything wrong, ladies? Far too cold to be standing around in the dark, don't you-"

"There!" The nurse cut him off, pointing at the sky. Something fell to Earth, burning in a green streak of light. "There, look- in the sky!" She repeated.

"That's beautiful."

They watched as the light faded into the night sky, leaving them in the dark once again. "There... all gone." John stated, looking back at the women. "Commonly known as a meteorite. It's just rocks falling to the ground, that's all." He calmed them.

"It came down in the woods." Joan insisted.

"No, no no, they always look close, when actually they're miles off- nothing left but a cinder." He explained before turning to Violet and the nurse. "Now, I should escort you back to the school. Ladies?" He glanced at the maids as well, ever the gentleman.

"No, we're fine, thanks." Martha waved him off, her eyes still trained on the sky.

"Then I shall bid you goodnight." He put on his hat and held out his arms for Violet and Joan.

They walked off, Joan still going on about the meteor. "It was a great, big, green light- right in front of me, honest!" She exclaimed.

"It was a meteor." John repeated again, slightly irritated at her persistance.

"But it was green!"

Violet sighed. "That comes from the metal atoms in the meteorite. There must have been a lot of magnesium for the atoms to dominate the air plasma emissions. Rather strange for-" She stopped talking when she saw the looks John and Joan were giving her. "Right, sorry. I find physics rather fascinating- I forget to stop talking sometimes."

"No, no, no- you're extraordinary, really. I've never known a woman of such knowledge." John complimented her, which put a blush on her cheeks again.

"You're nurturing my arrogance, John." She teased, giving him a smirk which he found to be appealing on her full lips.

Joan stared at them in envy, remembering her husband's love, as they kept up a steady flow of conversation the entire way back to the school.

Violet, Martha and Captain McDonnell were supporting a screaming Doctor as they rushed into the med-centre, and Martha ran to the stasis chamber, frantically grabbing an instruction manual as the other women lifted the heavily breathing man up onto the bed of it.

The Doctor, painfully trying to keep his eye closed, called out, "Violet? Where are you?"

"I'm here." She told him calmly, putting a hand on his cheek.

"It's burning me up, I can't control it. I could kill you all- all of you!" He screamed, convulsing in pain.

She looked down at him, her hearts being ripped apart, before she turned to Martha. "Minus two-hundred for ten seconds. No more, that's all he'll be able to take, understood?" The woman nodded frightfully and Violet turned her attention back to the Doctor.

"You won't kill anyone. Martha is going to freeze it out of you- you're going to be fine." She soothed him.

"I'm scared! I'm so scared, Violet!" He whimpered, and she closed her eyes for a second, geniunely afraid of seeing the Doctor scared, before moving to lie next to him in the stasis chamber. "What are you doing?" He asked her urgently.

"I promised." Was all she said as she wrapped an arm around him to keep him from moving.

"I don't want to die." He said through gritted teeth as he fought sun's presence in his body. "If I regenerate-"

"You're not going anywhere, Theta." She whispered and shifted her view to Martha. "You ready?"

Martha gave her a hesitant 'Yes', as the Doctor- who felt spoken to since his eyes were closed- said 'No'.

The Time Lords were rolled into the stasis chamber, and a bright light filled it as the process started, the Doctor screaming in pain but Violet barely flinching at the cold. They had reached minus seventy degrees when the light shut off along with the freezing.

The Doctor whimpered and Violet looked at him sadly as she asked Martha, "What was that?! You can't stop, it's not frozen yet!"

She heard the captain's voice, "Power's been cut in engineering."

"Then fix it!" She yelled, not caring about politeness as she saw a tear roll down the side of the Doctor's face, which was covered in ice crystals. She didn't hear McDonnell's reply, but knew she had gone to do as she said.

Violet stroked his rapidly melting face as she called out, "You have to go, Martha!"

"No way!"

Violet groaned before explaining, "You need to get to the front of the ship! The sun particles in the fuel- you have to release them!"

There was a scoff. "I am not leaving him!"

The Doctor parted his lips painfully to speak. "You've got to! Give back what they took!" He yelled.

There was a pause. "I'll be back for you." Martha stated before running away.

He started panting again, and Violet took his face into her hands gently, wiping away a fresh tear and resting her forehead against his softly.

"Please don't leave me." He begged, feeling her presence warm him comfortably despite the raging fire coursing through his veins.

She pressed her lips to his gently before whispering, "Never."

Violet Stewart awoke from her dream in a start. She had had a lot of dreams, but that one- it was different. The Doctor and the fictional Violet had never expressed any sort of loving passion, and she wondered if it had something to do with the hours she had spent with John, the real incarnation of the Doctor in her dreams.

She stared at the ceiling of her room, wishing the plain white would turn into a canopy of stars for her to sleep under, but there was nothing. She longed for calming sounds her fictional time-travelling machine made, but found herself lying in silence. Almost.

When she strained her ears, she could hear someone breathing heavily and mumbling, as if they were sleep-talking.

"I'm scared! I'm so scared, Violet!" The voice said, and Violet remembered her dream- the words the Doctor had spoken. When she heard a familiar scream, she got out of bed and ran into John's bedroom without another thought.

She saw the man lying in bed- his breathing ragged and his face scrunched up in pain- and moved to his side instantly.

"John?" She shook him awake gently, and his gaze locked onto hers in a familiar manner.

"Violet?" He asked warily before sitting up suddenly. "Oh, I'm terrible sorry- I must have woken you. I was just dreaming..." He trailed off, a blush creeping onto his cheeks as he remembered.

She grinned a little, knowing that they must have dreamt the same thing. "I was awake- I had a rather vivid dream that woke me up." She let her eyes drop to his lips for a second before she cleared her throat. "I should probably go..."

John snapped out of his daze. "You could always... stay." He suggested nervously, making Violet smile.

"Perhaps I could."

He moved over to one side of his bed to make room, and she slipped under the warm covers happily, sleep already tugging her under as she rested her head on pyjama-clad chest.

She woke up blissfully calm the next morning, sighing contently as she opened her eyes, taking in John as he slept. His hair was messier and his expression peaceful as his chest rose and fell steadily. She didn't want to wake him, so she got out of bed carefully and left him a note before returning to her room to get dressed.

Once in her room, she cleaned herself before putting on an unspectacular grey dress and trying to fix her hair- in vain, naturally. She sighed, seeing she still had some time before she had to assist in a class, and sat down at her desk to write in her diary.

Dearest Diary,

It's strange here, really. The last day was very exciting and confusing, I suppose I should write it down to clear my mind:

I met the man, first of all. The man I dream about all the time, with the two hearts. His name is John Smith, and he's a teacher at this school! It's so irritating to feel like you know someone so well but not really know them at all. Which is funny, because we get on extraordinarily well, it's like we've known eachother for years. I feel a strange sort of attraction towards him- I even slept in his bed last night!

I should imagine I have to go now, I can hear the bell ringing.

Goodbye, dear friend,

Violet Stewart

Violet was taking a walk for her break, when she walked into the courtyard, seeing a scene that shocked her, for some reason.

Machine guns were set up behind a bunker of sandbags, and the pupils were shooting at enemies made of scarecrows holding sticks and with buckets as helmets. Target practice was common at a school with such military discipline- what shocker her, was John, who stood next to the headmaster, observing and teaching the boys.

She listened in before walking forward, slightly repulsed at seeing the man she had taken a sudden liking to teaching boys how to kill.

A boy named Hutchinson was talking to John. "Didn't I tell you, Sir, this stupid boy is useless! Permission to give Latimer a beating, Sir?"

"It's your class, Mr Smith." The headmaster stated.

"Permission granted." John said lightly, making Violet feel even sicker as she stepped in the way of the boys who were taking Latimer away.

"Permission denied." She stated coldly.

"Miss Stewart!" The headmaster exclaimed. "May I ask what you are doing interfering in men's business?"

"Setting them right." She ground out, glaring at the man.

"I think not. Besides, the shooting ground is no place for a lady." He looked at her somewhat condensendingly.

She scoffed. "Nor is it a place for young boys, headmaster."

"It's disciplinary, and they'll put it to good use if they ever go to war- they'll make their families proud." He voiced his opinion loudly, intending for the boys to hear.

"No good if they're dead, is it?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow. "These boys... do you think they'll thank you? When they're sitting in trenches after having killed- do you honestly believe that they'll have happy memories of the men that taught them to do so? Killing changes a person- if it doesn't fill them with unbearable guilt, it makes them angry. You'll be the cause of that." She paused, staring at the shocked men, before adding, "But congratulations- you have a well-behaved school with proud sponsors." With that, she stalked off, a strange rage filling her.

"Miss Stewart! Wait, please!" She heard John's shout along with his footsteps catching up to her and sighed, turning around. "I'm sorry, it must have been rather disturbing for you to see that. Will you take a walk with me? Please?" He begged her sweetly.

She looked at his hopeful, teddy brown eyes and sighed. "Alright then. Will you show me around? I haven't had much time to explore the village."

He saw the mischievous glint in her eyes and chuckled. "I suppose I will be." He said, holding out his arm for her to link hers through, which she did.

They walked into the village, talking easily as they always did. In front of a shop, a piano was being winched up by two men in a rope sling.

"It's funny- I just feel so out of place sometimes, like I shouldn't be here." Violet was saying, and John nodded.

"Yes! Exactly like that. And then I do something I had no idea I could do, and I wonder- what if I didn't belong here. Maybe I'm supposed to be out there, travelling the stars." He looked at her a little sheepishly. "With you." He added.

"I wish." She giggled, spinning around as they came to a stop in the centre of the marketplace. "Imagine it- all the stars, the planets, the civilisations! Oh, it'd be wonderful!" She said excitedly.

John chuckled, but his eyes roamed and he spotted a woman with a pram heading towards the builing the piano was being lifted up. He looked over at it, seeing the rope sling ripping slowly, but neither of the men- nor the woman- notice it.

Violet followed his gaze and spotted the exact same problem almost instantly. She looked around, alarmed, and saw a boy mindlessly throwing about with a cricket ball. After glancing back at the woman with the pram, she grabbed it from his hand and threw it a a bundle of scaffolding pipes, which fell and caused a chain reaction. They landed on a plank of wood with a brick sitting upon it, launching it into the air just as the piano started to fall. The brick continued to fall to a collection of metal milk churns that fell into the way of the woman's pram. She let out a scream, just as the piano hit the floor, smashing to the ground- accompanied by the sound of all the keys being pressed by impact.

Both Violet and John looked stunned for a second.

"Wow." The young woman stated, coming out of her daze.

"I should think so!" He grinned at her. "Violet Stewart, you brilliant woman, might I invite you to the village dance this evening?"

She returned his grin with a laugh. "Most certainly, John."

"Should we go on? I wouldn't want you to keep saving the day and depriving me of my pride." He joked lightly.

"You're a man. I don't think you'll ever be able to get past your pride." Violet retorted with a teasing smile.

He laughed, and they walked on- up a hill and onto a path that went right by a field. They kept up a light-hearted banter like old friends, but didn't speak of the past night- even though John was itching to ask her about it.

They were at the peak of the hill when they saw a scarecrow hanging askew, with one arm hanging limply away from its frame.

"I think it's our duty to fix it." Violet said with a grin after John metioned it, and they crossed the field to do so.

She watched him tie the scarecrow's arm back onto the wooden frame, smiling. "You're very artistic- where'd you learn to draw?" She asked.

"Gallifrey." He replied quickly, making her frown. There wasn't a place called Gallifrey on Earth- only in her dreams.

"Gallifrey? The planet with the red grass and silver leaves?" She said, getting him to realise what he said.

"Oh, sorry. Did I say Gallifrey? That was random... sorry." He repeated nervously.

She laughed a little. "I don't mind- it's rather adorable."

"Really?" He asked, blushing, before he switched topics. "Right. Yes. Well, my work is done- what do you think?" He stood back, appraising his work on the scarecrow.

"Masterpiece." She stated, taking off John's hat and putting on her own head with a cheeky smile, daring him take it back.

"That's my hat!" John exclaimed, but was grinning nontheless. "Give it back!"

Violet stuck out her tongue childishly. "Come and take it back, then."

She ran off down the hill, giggling like mad, with John chasing her. She made it quite far, but a few yards in front of the school building, he caught up with her. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist gently but firmly.

"Got you." He breathed with a bright smile on his face.

She put his hat back on his head, laughing. "It appears you have."

"What's my prize?" He asked, his warm breath fanning onto her face due to their proximity.

"Take your pick."

"Can I have you?" He suggested with a devilish grin on his face. She nodded with a matching smile, and John leaned forward kiss her, when they heard a shard intake of breath.

Joan.

After talking awkwardly to Joan, who seemed upset at seeing John and Violet together, the two of them went to his study. She was sitting on his sofa, her head tilted, while he finished his sketch of her face, smudging the last pencil-drawn line.

When he was certain he was done, he moved to sit next to her and showed her his journal. "Thank you for letting me draw you- I feel like I wasn't able to do you justice going off of my dreams." He told her, flipping back a few pages to show her another sketch of her face. It wasn't as detailed as the recent one was, but it made her look beautiful nontheless.

"You're very talented." She said soflty, putting a hand on his arm.

"So are you." He said, and Violet could see the sincerity in his eyes.

She shook her head. "No, I just spent too much time with my nose in books."

"No, really, you're amazing." He stated, brushing a stray curl out of her face gently. "You're incredibly headstrong, you make me laugh, you're intelligent... you're beautiful." He whispered and slowly leant forward, pressing his lips to hers. A spark of electricity ran through both of them, and John's hands wove themselves into her hair to keep her body against his. Her warmth overwhelmed him, her fingers lighting his skin on fire as they trailed across it gently.

It was a hesitant kiss, neither one of the two knowing where it would lead them. They didn't have long to find out, unfortunately, because they heard a rattle of the door. They broke apart just in time to see Martha breathlessly running into the room.

"Martha, what have I told you about entering unannounced?" John sighed irritably.

The maid completely disregarded him. "They've found us." She stated.

Violet frowned in confusion. "Who?"

"Martha, I've warned you." John said angrily.

"They've found us, and I've seen them- they look like people, like us, like normal. I'm sorry, but you've got to open the watch." Martha said, appearing to talk nonsense, and looked over to the mantelpiece. When she didn't find what she was looking for, she turned back to John. "Where is it? Oh my god, where's it gone? Where's the watch?" She panicked.

"What are you talking about?" He exclaimed.

"You had a watch, a fob watch." She pointed at the mantelpiece. "Right there!"

"Did I? I don't remember." He said, thinking back.

"Why is it so important?" Violet asked the maid calmly.

"We need it... Oh my god, Violet, we're hiding from aliens with the Doctor! They've taken Jenny- possessed her or copied her- you need to open your watch! Where is it?" She asked the woman.

"A fob watch?" She repeated, making Martha nod violently. "I have one- had it all my life."

"Yes! You need to open it- the Family, they're here! The Doctor said it'd be easier for you to remember..." She paused, remembering something. "Hang on! You have two hearts!" She yelled.

"Two hearts? Martha, I don't understand." Violet stated, completely bewildered.

"Oh I see..." John suddenly said, before quietly telling her, "Cultural differences." He picked up his journal, which rested on his desk, and held it out to Martha. "It must be so confusing for you- Martha, this is what we call a story. "

The maid looked at him in disbelief. "Oh you complete... This isn't you! This is nineteen thirteen!" She waved her hands dramatically.

"Good." He nodded, speaking like he would to a child. "This is nineteen thirteen."

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, but I've got to snap you out of this." She reeled her hand back and slapped him suddenly, making his head snap to the side. "Wake up! You're coming back to the TARDIS with me!" She yelled.

"How dare you!" John shouted. "I'm not going anywhere with an insane servant! Martha, you are dismissed, you will leave these premises immediately. Now get out!" He pulled her to the door and set her outside before slamming the door behind her.

"The nerve of it- absolute cheek! You think I'm a fantasist, what about her?" He commented angrily.

Violet placed a hand on his arm calmingly. "But she's right. You did have a fob watch on your mantelpiece. "It looked just like mine, just like the one we've both dreamt of."

After John had calmed down, Violet had gone back to her room to get ready for the village dance. She had put on a white, floor-length dress which complimented her olive skin beaitifully, and her unruly curls spun down her back to their own accord as per usual. She walked over to her dresser, where she saw her fob watch lying, and picked it up, running her fingers over the circular lines. She sighed, not knowing what to do with it, but slipped it into her bag anyway, feeling it was important.

There was a knock on the door, and Violet went to it slowly, her mind still on the watch in her bag.

"You look stunning." John blurted as soon as she opened it.

"You don't look too shabby yourself, Mr Smith." She teased, taking his outstretched arm. They walked from the school premises, occasionally greeting others as the made their way to the village hall. It was dark on the street, but a man stood in front of the door with a metal mug in his hand.

"Spare a penny for the veterans of the Crimea, sir?" He suggested, rattling the coin-filled mug. John dug through his pockets and handed the man a coin, smiling at Violet as they walked into the hall.

Inside, people were milling about, laughing and talking cheerfully as they drank. The two of them, having only just arrived, were beckoned to the dance floor by the announcer.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Please take your partners for a waltz." He called over the chattering. Violet pulled the man next to her onto the floor, smiling as they took their positions.

"I hope you can dance- I quite like my feet in the arrangement they're currently in." She joked as the music started. They danced along with the other couples, smiling at eachother.

"What do you think? Do my dancing skills do you justice?" He asked after a moment.

She nodded, her brown eyes twinkling in amusement. "Most certainly."

Momentarily stunned by her, John messed up the dance a little, causing them to bump into another couple. After they had apologised, the music ended and John went to get them both a drink while Violet waited at a table off to the side.

While waiting, she spotted Martha heading towards her with a determined look in her eyes. She marched over to her and sat down in the chair across from Violet.

"You feel different, don't you?" Martha demanded and went on when she nodded hesitantly. "You don't remember your past properly, and sometimes you say these things that you don't recall ever learning. You sit somewhere, and this feeling comes over you- like you're completely out of your time. You do, don't you?"

Violet stared at her in shock before nodding again. "Exactly like that." She whispered sadly, just as John came back.

"Oh, now really, Martha." He said warily when he spotted the maid in his seat. "This is getting out of hand. I must insist that you leave."

Martha ignored him and fished a device out of her pocket and held it up. "Do you know what this is? Name it. Go on, name it." She waved it about for good measure, showing both of them the thin, metal cylindrical thing.

Violet, with a sense of familiarity, took the object from her hands, running her fingers over it in wonder.

"You're not John Smith or Violet Stewart- you're the Doctor and Violet. The people in your journal, they're real- they're you!" Martha urged them to remember, watching Violet with approval of her behaviour.

"Sonic screwdriver." She stated suddenly, flinging the device away from her as she clutched her head which had started to pound as memories flooded back into her human mind.

The Time War, the people she had lost, the deaths, the murders, the waiting. Then came the Doctor and Rose, then Martha and the Family. The chameleon arch.

Her mind flashed back to what the Doctor had said right before they used the chameleon arch.

"Now, the TARDIS will take care of everything. Invent a life story for us, find us a setting and integrate us. Can't do the same for you...you'll just have to improvise. We should have just enough residual awareness to let you in. It'll be easier for Violet to remember because she isn't a typical Time Lord- her brain won't store away her conciousness completely. You have to be careful, Martha. If she remembers too soon... It's dangerous."

She already felt her head pounding under the overload of information and memories in her human brain. Everything she had felt in her long life came crashing back down on her, and she had to fight to keep herself from crying out from their strain.

After a few painful seconds, she snapped back into reality, but her head was still pounding as a large man entered the dance hall with a technologically advance gun in his hand. He knocked over a hat stand violently, making people gasp and scramble away from him.

"There will be silence! All of you!" He shouted while scarecrows filed in- alive- along with Baines and one of Martha's maid friends. More people cried out in shock, causing the man to raise his voice again. "I said silence!"

"Mr Clarke! What's going on?" The announcer demanded, making him turn and fire at him. He dissolved into atoms, causing the room to errupt in shrieks.

Violet looked at John. "I need you to forget all of that. You're John Smith, the teacher, nothing more." She told him quickly.

"We asked for silence!" Baines, the school boy started. "Now then. We have a few questions for Mr Smith."

A little girl with a red balloon stood up from a corner of the room. "No, better than that. The teacher- he's the Doctor and that woman is the Unnamed. I heard them talking." She joined the three intruders in the front of them room.

"You took human form." Baines sneered.

"Of course I'm human, I was born human!" John exclaimed. "As are you, Baines- and Jenny, and you, Mr Clarke! What is going on? This is madness!"

Baines smiled sickly. "And a human brain, too! Simple, thick and dull. "

"He's no good like this." Jenny stated. "We need a Time Lord."

"Easily done." Baines said, pointing his gun at John, who recoiled backwards. "Change back." He demanded.

"I don't know what you're talking about." John insisted.

"Change back!"

"I literally do not know-" He started again, but Jenny grabbed Martha and pointed a gun at the struggling woman.

Baines smirked, looking at Violet. "What about you? The Unnamed. Why don't you make a choice? You can either change back, or we'll shoot the Doctor and your companion. Your pick."

She frowned in mock confusion. "What? I don't understand... Am I the Unnamed? That's a funny name, 'The Unnamed'."

Mr Clarke moved to her suddenly and threatened her with a gun as well. "Change back." He commanded, making Violet scoff.

"Oh, you idiots. Leave it to you to point a gun at the most feared woman in the universe." In the blink of an eye, she had changed her position and was standing with two guns in her hands, one of them pointed at Mr Clarke and the other at Baines- leaving the whole room startled.

She smirked at their confusment. "Drop your guns, boys."